High On Morgan Towers
by Ross7
Summary: A routine call turns out to be extremely hazardous to their health, as paramedics Gage and DeSoto find themselves high on Morgan Towers.
1. Chapter 1

"**High On Morgan Towers"**

By Ross7

**Chapter One**

The Captain and crew of Los Angeles County Fire Station 51 were seated in their rec' room, attempting to relax between back-to-back calls.

The freshly poured coffee in their cups had cooled to just about drinkable—when the alarm sounded.

All six men tensed up and listened.

"**Squad 51…**" the dispatcher began.

Squad 51's crew of two got stiffly to their feet and started heading for the garage.

Captain Hank Stanley also stood and stepped over to the call desk.

The remaining members of the Engine crew exhaled sighs of relief and returned to their relaxing.

"**Man down…unknown cause…218** **West Nadine Street…Cross-streets Fourth and Grand…two-eighteen West Nadine…ambulance responding…Time Out…10:42**"

"Squad 51, KMG-365…" Stanley acknowledged and passed a copy of the call on to his paramedics.

Roy DeSoto snatched the slip of paper from his Captain and passed it along to his partner, John Gage.

The rescue truck exited the Station and then disappeared off down the street, lights flashing and siren blaring.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Seven minutes later, the Squad braked to a halt in front of a small, one-story, bluish gray house.

Its driver cut the lights and siren.

The paramedic team piled out and began pulling equipment cases from their vehicle's side compartments.

A teenaged girl emerged from 218 West Nadine, crying hysterically. "Hurry!" she shouted between sobs. "Please, hurry! It's Donny! My boyfriend! He won't wake up!"

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

The firemen obligingly followed the frantic female into the home, but then abruptly halted—as an unbelievably obnoxious odor assailed their nostrils and immediately overwhelmed them. The two rescuers glanced at each other and exchanged grimaces.

"What is that _awful_ sme-ell?" Gage wondered and tried burying his nose into the short sleeve of his uniform shirt. "Does your boyfriend keep a pet skunk?"

"He burned some incense," the little lady quickly explained and led them into the living room.

John caught sight of a motionless young man, sprawled across a sofa and calmly concluded, "Maybe he just inhaled a little too much _incense_?"

"No!" their guide contradicted. "He burns the stuff all the time! It's never affected him before!"

Seeing as how they couldn't perform their duties while keeping their noses covered, DeSoto turned to his now coughing colleague and quickly suggested, "Better open some windows!"

His partner nodded his approval of the plan, and immediately set about getting some _fresh_ air into the premises.

Roy set his equipment down beside John's cases and then dropped to his knees to examine their unconscious victim. "I'm Roy. My partner's John. What's your name?" he calmly inquired of the still crying girl, standing at his side.

"Michelle," she sniffled.

"What happened here, Michelle?" the paramedic pondered, as he finished his initial patient survey and began taking vital signs.

"I don't know!" she cried, her voice rising to new levels of hysteria. "I just came over and found him here like this!"

"Alright, Michelle, just take it easy," Roy urged, not desiring to have to treat a second victim. "We're going to do everything we possibly can for him. Does Donny have any serious medical problems or have to take any medication of any kind?"

The girl's tear-filled eyes suddenly blazed wide with anger. "What do you mean 'of any kind'?" she demanded. "You think he's tripping out?"

John finished his assigned task and knelt between his partner and their victim's highly agitated girlfriend. "We ask everyone these questions, Michelle. We're not trying to accuse anyone of anything. We're just trying to help, but we can't help him if we can't find out what's wrong with him." He finished setting up their bio-phone and took the slip of paper his partner passed on to him. "Rampart Base, this is Squad 51…How do you read?"

"Donny isn't on any medication…that I know of," Michelle meekly replied.

Roy got to his feet. "Johnny, I didn't find a medical alert I.D., but I think I'll check out the medicine cabinet, anyway."

His partner nodded.

DeSoto disappeared off down a hall.

"**Unit calling in, please repeat…**" Doctor Kelly Brackett finally acknowledged.

"Rampart, Squad 51. We have a male victim…approximately 18 years of age. The patient is comatose, Rampart…no known cause. He is completely unresponsive to pain stimuli. Vitals are: BP 90/40, pulse 80, respirations 20 and shallow, lungs are clear, pupils are equal but dilated and un-reactive," Gage paused as his partner stepped back into the room.

DeSoto shook his head and then started getting the oxygen and an IV ready.

"We can't find any evidence of a medication O.D., Rampart," the fireman on the phone finished, sounding somewhat frustrated.

Brackett's voice also reflected some frustration as he passed along his orders for treatment to the two medical men in the field.

"Roger that, Rampart," Gage acknowledged.

As his partner read back the doctor's instructions, DeSoto set about carrying them out.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

In no time, they had their victim stabilized and ready to transport.

The ambulance arrived.

The attendants lifted Donny onto a stretcher and began rolling him out of the room.

"I'm gonna look around," John announced. "Maybe I can find some kind a' clue...or _somethin'_."

Roy nodded, grabbed some essential gear and accompanied their victim out to the ambulance.

"Where are they taking him?" Michelle wondered, as her boyfriend was wheeled away from her.

"Rampart General. You kin ride in with me, if yah like," the remaining paramedic proposed.

"Thanks. That would be nice."

"Yah know, Michelle…there's a big difference between narc'ing on a friend—and tellin' a doctor somethin' that could possibly save a friend's life," John solemnly reminded their coma victim's still sniffling, still silent 'confidante'.

The girl avoided Gage's gaze…and chose to _remain_ silent.

The fireman finished his thorough search of the living room and exhaled a silent sigh of frustration.

Michelle watched nervously, as the paramedic crossed back over to the incense container that lay open on the coffee table.

The small, brightly-colored cardboard box was emblazoned with Chinese symbols—and filled with the offensive odor producers.

John held one of the small, black, cone-shaped cubes up to his nose and made another face. "Man!" he exclaimed. "I can't imagine anyone actually _wanting_ to smell this stuff!" He snatched a 'barf sack' from one of the open cases at his feet, and began bagging the stinky stuff up for a quick trip in—to the lab at Rampart.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

DeSoto was standing outside Treatment Room Two, talking with RN Dixie McCall.

"Any change?" Gage asked, as he and Donny's girlfriend approached the pair.

Roy frowned and shook his head. "What about you? Did you find anything?"

John frowned and shook his head.

"What's in the bag?" Dixie wondered.

Gage opened the paper sack in his hands, pulled out the ornately decorated little box and handed the nurse a couple a' pieces of the container's smelly contents.

Miss McCall stared down at the cone-shaped objects in her hand in complete confusion. "What's this?"

"Incense," John replied.

The nurse never even realized incense came in a _cone_ shape. She had only ever seen the stuff attached to long, tapered sticks. "Sandalwood?" the woman wondered and took a cautious sniff.

"Would you believe _polecat_?" Roy came back.

"Ugh!" the sniffer exclaimed and her pretty face scrunched up. "Yes! I would! Where did you get this stuff?"

John held the box up and Dixie rapidly replaced the foul-smelling objects. "That coma victim was burning this stuff, shortly before whatever happened to him _happened_ to hi—" he stopped speaking, as the two-way radio that was strapped to his left wrist began 'bleeping'.

"**Squad 51…What is your status?"**

"Kel wants to hear more about what _happened _to him," the nurse informed the firemen, as they locked their questioning gazes upon her.

"Dix', this is the victim's girlfriend, Michelle…" John quickly introduced. "Michelle knows way more than we do!" he hinted.

The nurse and the paramedics exchanged _knowing_ glances. "Alright. You guys can go."

Gage handed her the sack in his right hand. Then, he raised the radio in his left hand, and thumbed its call button. "LA, Squad 51 is available at the hospital on follow up," he promptly informed the dispatcher.

"**10-4, 51…Standby for a response…**"

The paramedic team turned away from Treatment Two and began heading for their rescue truck.

Several seconds passed before their HT began 'bleeping again'.

"**Squad 51, assist Squad 16 and Engine 51 with man trapped on tower…459 East Morgan Towers Road…four-five-nine…East Morgan Towers Road…Ambulance and Engine responding…Time out: 11:37…"**

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

The firemen reached the parking lot, piled into their vehicle, tossed their helmets on and strapped them in place.

John used the vehicle's dash-mounted radio to acknowledge the dispatcher. "Squad 51,10-4!" He replaced the radio mic', recorded the call and then turned to his partner. "The Morgan Towers are less than three miles from here."

"Yeah…I know," his fellow paramedic replied, as he pulled out of the hospital's parking lot and flicked on their rescue truck's lights and siren. "That's probably why **we** got the call to assist." Roy glanced in his rear-view mirror.

There was an ambulance right on their tail.

Both rescue vehicles would be arriving at the scene—simultaneously.

The paramedic could count on one hand the number of times _that_ had happened in the past six years!

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

"High On Morgan Towers"

**Chapter Two**

The three 1,500 foot Morgan Towers could be seen—on a smog-free day—from practically every viewing point in Station 51's little corner of LA County.

Within a matter of minutes, the Morgan Towers Road sign appeared.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Squad 51's driver turned east onto the black topped lane and, less than a quarter mile further, Roy spotted what appeared to be the call scene.

A man in a bright yellow hard hat was standing in the middle of an enormous paved parking lot, alternately waving his arms…and pointing skyward.

Roy braked to a halt and cut the lights and siren.

"I told him not to do it! I told him!" the arm waver informed the two firemen as they exited their rescue truck, and kept right on pointing up.

The paramedics shielded their eyes against the sun's brilliant glare and looked up…and up…and up to where their semi-hysterical host was pointing. Both Gage and DeSoto whistled softly.

More than three-quarters of the way to the top of the middle tower the motionless figure of a man could be seen, dangling by a security harness.

"He went up to change the warning lights!" the guy in the hard hat continued. "I told him not to do it, but he just wouldn't listen!"

"What happened?" Roy wondered, as he and his partner began pulling various compartments open and grabbing their _high rescue_ gear.

"I don't know, but he's wa-ay too old to be doing that sort a' thing! Maybe his heart gave out on him?"

The paramedics finished donning their security belts.

Gage threw two heavy coils of rope over his helmeted head and left shoulder, and began trotting towards the base of their victim's tower.

DeSoto did likewise.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

From a distance, the Morgan Towers were pretty impressive.

Up close—their enormous size was downright intimidating!

The rescuers reached the middle tower's base.

A security guard waved them through a gate in the foundation's fenced in perimeter.

"I'll go first," John volunteered as they approached the ladder. "You stop half-way up. I'll lower him to you. You lower him to 16's."

Roy nodded his approval of his partner's proposed plan of action.

Gage climbed the six steps that led up to the ladder's first rung and then carefully started scaling the giant erector set.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

The climbing was easy and, in no time at all, the first fireman found himself several hundred feet above the ground.

'I sure hope they have a good maintenance crew,' the climber thought, as he latched onto yet another rung.

Approaching sirens could be heard over the sound of the wind rushing past his ears. The coils of rope were becoming increasingly heavy and the muscles in his arms and shoulders were really beginning to burn, so the lead rescuer decided he'd better take a breather.

John clipped his security belt to a ladder rung and looked down.

Roy had chosen to stop and rest his aching arms, as well. His partner was perched about 150 rungs down from him.

Five hundred and some feet below, a tiny little fire engine—and another, even smaller, rescue squad—pulled up and parked alongside their teeny-looking vehicle. The sirens ceased their wailing, and itty-bitty bodies began exiting the trucks.

'They look like _toys_!' the resting paramedic mused. 'I'll have to remember to tell Mike that Big Red don't look so big from up here,' he told himself. "Enough sight-seeing!" he spoke into the wind.

John unclipped his safety clamp and started climbing again.

It was becoming a bit breezier, and the tower was starting to sway slightly, so he gripped the rungs a little tighter.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

At the thousand-foot level, Gage secured himself to another rung, to give his complaining limbs another break, and his oxygen starved lungs another breather.

The panting paramedic kept his gaze level, this time, and took in the awesome site's awesome sights.

LA County was experiencing a rare relatively smog-free day, and the already breathless climber found his unrestricted view to be even more breathtaking!

Straight ahead, he could see Rampart. From where the fireman stood—the huge hospital looked like an architect's model.

To his left, a pretty blue Pacific Ocean stretched endlessly off to the horizon.

To his right, were the foothills of the Sierra Nevada's. A few of the mountain range's snow-capped peaks were even visible from that altitude. Though, he could barely make them out through the thin brown haze.

The tower's tourist unclipped and began the last leg of his lo-ong exhausting climb.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

At around fourteen hundred and some feet up the tower, the lead rescuer _finally_ reached their still-not-stirring victim.

The paramedic climbed right level with the completely motionless man and clipped his clamp securely to the ladder.

Even though he _knew_ he wouldn't fall, John still had an incredibly difficult time releasing the ladder's rung, to perform his initial patient survey.

'No respirations…no pulse…pupils fixed and dilated…' he mentally noted, and then solemnly said, "Dead."

With the sense of urgency now gone, the weary rescuer allowed himself to rest—once more.

The body retriever then tied his two coils of rope together. Gage wrapped a loose end around a ladder rung a few times and then secured it to the dead man's safety harness. "HEADS UP!" he shouted into the wind. Then he un-slung both of his heavy burdens and allowed them to drop.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Seven hundred some feet below, his partner couldn't hear the warning.

However, DeSoto _saw_ the uncoiling line coming, and ducked.

The rope smacked his helmet and continued its rapid descent for another three hundred feet or so.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Back up at over 1,400 feet above the ground…

Gage pulled his leather gloves on. The paramedic carefully lifted their victim and released the man's safety clamp.

John allowed the dead weight to rest against his legs while he finished establishing his belay.

Gage gradually eased his grip on the rope.

Slowly, it began to slip…through his gloved hands…and then around and around and around the ladder rung.

The workman's body began to descend.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

After what seemed like forever, the dangling form _finally_ reached Roy's position.

As their victim came within reach, DeSoto grabbed the guy's clamp and clipped it to the ladder.

Roy had his ropes all set to go, but first he made a quick assessment of their victim. 'No respirations…no pulse…pupils fixed and dilated,' he mentally noted and then somberly said, "Dead."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

"High On Morgan Towers"

**Chapter Three**

Meanwhile, back over in Rampart General's Emergency Receiving Ward…

Dr. Kelly Brackett was standing in front of a lit screen in Treatment Two, viewing his coma patient's skull series of x-rays. He finished reading the guy's films and flicked the screen's light off.

The completely baffled physician turned to his equally mystified medical team and exhaled a loud gasp of complete exasperation.

They were fighting a losing battle. No matter what they did, the patient continued to slip away. The young man's nervous system was shutting down, and they had yet to find some clue as to _why_ this was even occurring!

"Alright, let's get him up to ICU!" Donny's doctor ordered. "If anybody needs me, I'll be over in the waiting room, questioning this guy's girlfriend…again! " he annoyedly added and then disappeared.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Michelle saw Donny's doctor exiting the treatment room and went running up to him. "How is he?" she anxiously inquired.

Kel grabbed the girl by the elbow, escorted her over to a bench near the Nurses' Station and sat her down. "Michelle it's terribly important that we know what happened to Donny…" he hinted and assumed a seat beside her.

Michelle began to cry, as the dark-haired paramedic's words replayed in her head.

'Yah know, Michelle…there's a big difference between narc'ing on a friend—and tellin' a doctor somethin' that could possibly save a friend's life…'

"Is Donny going to...die?" she managed to inquire, between sniffles.

"He's going deeper and deeper into a coma. If we can't find something to treat...yes!" Brackett truthfully told her. "Donny **is** going to **die**!" The doctor had to put it bluntly. There was simply no time left for 'sugar-coating'.

"I didn't want him to get in any trouble," Michelle sobbed, and slipped her hand into the right front pocket of her jeans. The girl pulled out a little glass bottle and began passing it to Donny's doctor. Suddenly, her trembling hand froze and she stopped crying.

Kel pried the bottle from her fingers, removed its cover and took a cautious sniff of its contents. The physician grimaced. "What is this stuff?"

Michelle completely ignored the question. She seemed, suddenly, to be a billion miles away.

Bracket replaced the bottle's cap and shook the girl—not too gently. "What's in the bottle, Michelle?" he re-demanded. "Michelle? Did Donny take any of this?"

The zombie-like girl groaned and doubled up.

Dixie, who'd been watching events unfold, stepped out from behind her counter. "Easy, Kel," she urged. "I think she's spaced out_._" The RN grabbed the groaning girl by the shoulders and slowly straightened her back up in her seat.

"She was completely sober just a second ago!" the doctor exclaimed, pooh-poohing the nurse's diagnosis.

"He burned it…" Michelle told them, speaking in slow motion. "He burned it…" she repeated and made a face. "It smelled so-o bad…He b u r n e d it….and it burned hi—" the girl stopped speaking and started screaming—hysterically! "FIRE! **FI-IRE!**" she shouted, and began slapping at the imaginary flames that were apparently lapping at her pant legs.

"Dix! Get this to the lab—STAT!" Brackett ordered and handed the little bottle off to the nurse, so he could have both hands free to deal with their obviously _tripping-out_ patient.

The nurse nodded and headed for the lab.

Two orderlies heard the commotion and came over to render their assistance, towing an empty gurney.

The three of them somehow managed to get the still-screaming-at-the-top-of-her-lungs girl up onto it. Then they strapped her down and hauled her into the nearest available treatment room.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Michelle caught sight of the exam room's bright overhead light and instantly stopped screaming. Her eyes, once filled with horror, were suddenly wide with wonder. "Oh-oh…Wo-ow! How b e a u t i f u l the sun is!" she exclaimed with a broad beaming smile. "G O L D E N…G o l d e n…golden!" She was really flying high, now!

"Kel!" Dr. Joe Early called out, as he came rushing into the exam room waving a lab report, "they found a high concentration of lysergic acid in the boy's blood. He's apparently taken LSD or some other hallucinogenic dru—what happened to _her_?" he inquired, as he suddenly caught sight of the guy's girlfriend…strapped to a hospital gurney.

Brackett finished his initial exam and glanced up. "Ah, it seems he burned the stuff and inhaled the fumes. She must've breathed some of the smo—" Kel clammed up, as a rather horrifying thought suddenly occurred to him. 'What if everyone who went into the house inhaled some of the drug? The paramedics! The ambulance attendants!' He latched onto Early's arm. "Joe! Find the attendants who brought him in!"

Early understood—immediately—and went racing back out of the treatment room.

Brackett ran over to a phone on the wall. "Get me an outside line!" he ordered. "Get me the Fire Department! This is an **emergency**!"

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

"High On Morgan Towers"

**Chapter Four**

Roy began lowering the workman's body to the ground. He stopped, as a wave of dizziness suddenly washed over him. The fireman felt sort a' whoozy—drunk almost! He squinted and shook his head, in an unsuccessful attempt to clear it.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

John had decided to give his arms another brief rest before starting the long climb down. He felt the tower swaying, and noticed he was becoming a little dizzy and light-headed. In fact, he was beginning to feel a bit drunk!

'Oh, great! Just what I need!' he insincerely told himself. 'I must be getting motion sickness!' The fireman managed a bitter smile. 'I sure hope—for Roy's sake—that I don't have to _ralph_!'

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Back on the ground, hundreds of feet below…

"**Engine 51…**" the dispatcher's voice suddenly sounded.

Captain Hank Stanley slid the handy-talky from the right side-pocket of his turnout coat and thumbed its call button. "Engine 51. Go ahead, LA…"

"**Engine 51…request the where-abouts of Squad 51 paramedics…Firemen John Gage and Roy DeSoto.**"

Stanley squinted up at the middle tower. "LA, Engine 51. Gage and DeSoto are _with us_—here at the scene."

"**10-4, Engine 51…request you transport them both to Rampart General Hospital—immediately…**"

The Captain's already slightly elevated eyebrows arched even higher.

The dispatcher continued, **"…There is a strong possibility that they have both been exposed to an hallucinogenic drug, and may suffer a delayed reaction…Time out: 12:08"**

Stanley stared down at the radio—then up at the middle tower. Gage and DeSoto's Captain cursed aloud, and a look of abject horror filled his suddenly pallid face.

Hank slipped the HT back into his coat pocket—without signing off—and snatched up a bullhorn. "Bring me a security belt!" he ordered, on his way over to the middle tower's base. "Kelly! Lopez! I want you to don some belts, too!"

As they headed over to the tower, Stanley explained the _situation_ to his Engine crew.

Along the way, he and his men ditched their bulky coats and donned their security belts.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

The rescuers reached the middle tower's base.

Before beginning his climb, Station 51's Commander unclipped the bullhorn from his belt and shouted up the ladder, in his most _commanding_ voice, "**Roy! Listen to me! Secure the rope and **_**don't**_** move! That's an **_**order**_**!**"

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Seven hundred and some feet up the middle tower, DeSoto heard his Captain's shouted _order_.

Roy had already secured the rope.

He'd had to! He was too dizzy to do anything else!

'Must be the altitude…' he thought and looked down.

Everything was spinning around—all the colors were coming together.

He smiled. "Wow! That's really pretty!" he quietly proclaimed, as the blending colors produced new, more brilliant hues. 'I wish Johnny could see this!' he mused and looked up the ladder.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Another seven hundred feet or so above him, John Gage was feeling very, _very_ good.

He leaned back and stared up the ladder.

'I wonder what it's like at the top?'

He saw the sun spinning around the tower. Or, maybe the tower was spinning around the sun? 'Maybe _I'm_ spinning around?' he amusedly mused.

Gage threw his head back and grinned. "Who cares?" he shouted into the wind.

He reached out and tapped one of the tower's braces. 'Man! What a glorified set a' monkey bars!' he suddenly realized and came up with a truly terrific idea.

He could just climb out onto the brace and then slide down one of the tower's anchor cables.

He wrapped both arms around the brace and tried throwing his left leg over it. He couldn't.

He was stuck to the stinking _ladder_.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

"I'm going up for John!" Stanley stated and started climbing. "Chet! You come up behind me and get Roy down! Marco, you follow Chet and finish lowering the vi—"

"—Hey, Cap!" Mike Stoker suddenly shouted and pointed up.

Stanley and his ladder crew shielded their eyes against the sun's bright glare and looked up the tower. They spotted Gage—trying to climb out onto a brace.

Their Captain cursed again and then quickly recommenced his climbing.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Stanley and Kelly climbed right on by the dangling victim.

By the time they reached Roy's position, Marco had the dead guy on the ground with 16's paramedics.

"You just take it easy, Roy," the Captain urged, as he climbed carefully past the _spacey_ paramedic and clipped his belt securely to the ladder, about five rungs above DeSoto's helmeted head.

Chet climbed right level with Roy and fastened his safety clamp, too.

DeSoto was gazing blankly off into the distance…and smiling. The paramedic appeared to be completely oblivious of his company's arrival.

"Roy? I'm gonna lower you down now. So you just relax and enjoy the ride," Kelly told him as he finished rigging his belay. The mustached fireman felt really stupid saying that, because his _zoned out _colleague couldn't possibly have appeared any more relaxed.

"Why are you shouting?" Roy suddenly wondered. "Why are all the colors so…bright?" He looked down the ladder.

There were flames everywhere!

Golden, orange, and bright red flames were even dancing on the rungs, just below his feet. "Why is everything on fi-ire?" he pondered of no one in particular.

"I'm gonna have to lift you a little to get your clamp off," Kelly warned, speaking in a whisper. He released Roy's safety clip and began belaying him below.

"NO-O!" DeSoto screamed and clung to a rung—for dear life! "It's burning down there!"

Chet looked up at his Captain, and shrugged.

Stanley exhaled an exasperated sigh.

Precious moments passed.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

John saw three, itty-bitty people on the ladder—seven hundred and some feet below him.

Below them, was another person…even ittier and bittier than them.

"Itty-bitty...like ants!" He stiffened. "Ugh!" There were bugs crawling all over the ladder rung, just beneath his feet! He turned and tried to climb higher, but he was still stuck to that dang ladder. He looked up at the sun and forgot all about the bugs and the ladder. "B E A U T I F U L !" he declared.

Why hadn't he ever noticed how beautiful the sun is before?

"B E A U T I F U L !" he shouted into the wind again, in slow motion. "And all full of warm…wishy-washy…colors!" He grinned and rolled his head around.

The wind in his face made him feel like he was flying.

He had an irresistible urge to let go of the ladder…

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Chet suddenly got an idea. "Hey, Ro-oy? Can you see the _diamonds_ down there?" he inquired. "Diamonds! Sparkling in the sun!" he dramatically tacked on. He saw his Captain's brow arch skeptically and shrugged again.

As DeSoto stared down the ladder, the flames turned to crystals.

Light radiated from the crystals and separated into breathtaking hues of practically every color in the rainbow.

'Like little prisms,' Roy thought. "Crystals! M A G N I F I C E N T!" he declared and finally released the ladder rung.

Kelly glanced smugly up at his Captain. "Right, Roy! There are _magnificent crystals_ down there, and I'm gonna lower you so you can take a closer look at them." Chet wasn't sure the paramedic was listening anymore, but at least he wasn't protesting.

"Think you can manage alone?" Stanley asked.

Kelly glanced up and was just about to nod, when he saw John jump! His mustached face filled with horror and his racing heart missed a few beats! He shouted a warning to his Captain and then ducked.

Seconds later, Gage's helmet came sailing down the ladder…on its way to the ground.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

"High On Morgan Towers"

**Chapter Five**

Stanley looked up and saw that DeSoto' partner was now dangling from, but still secured onto, the ladder. He breathed an audible sigh of relief and unclipped the bullhorn from his belt.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

The fireman at the fourteen hundred and some foot level was frowning.

When he let go of the ladder, the only thing that went _flying_ was his helmet!

He didn't even _fall_! He'd just _hung_ there!

Something had him by the waist. He peered down and spotted the culprit. "I'll just take this belt off…and then I bet I kin _fly_!" he reasoned and began fumbling with the belt's buckle.

Suddenly, he heard someone calling him…from far, far away. "Who's there?" he stopped to ask the wind.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

"**John! **_**Don't**_** move! That's an **_**order**_**!**" his Captain repeated. Stanley replaced the bullhorn, unclipped his safety clamp, and began climbing—just as rapidly as safety, and his waning strength, would allow.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

"Who's there?" John repeated and glanced around again. The completely baffled fireman still couldn't find a body to go with the voice.

Gage forgot all about the belt buckle—and the mysterious voice.

The tower braces were glittering in the sunlight.

He crawled back up onto the ladder to watch the 'giant sparkler' show.

"Awesome!" the paramedic pronounced and slowly reached out. As he touched the tower's brace, it stopped sparkling. "Darn!" His disappointment was fleeting, however, as the gently swaying tower began to glow, instead. He gazed back up at earth's star and smiled.

It was still spinning around the top of the tower.

He watched it spin wave after wave of golden color. He wanted to get closer, so he started up the ladder. Once more, he found himself stuck. He looked down.

It was that pesky belt—again.

He released the ladder rung and began fumbling with its buckle—again.

"No, John!…_Don't_ move!…That's an _order_!"

There was that mysterious voice—again…and it sounded like it was getting closer.

The fireman stopped fumbling with the buckle and looked down the ladder.

Fifty yards away, and climbing fast, was his Captain.

"Help me, Cap!" John shouted down to him. "I'm stuck to this ladder!"

"Gage! Don't move!" Stanley called up as he climbed. He could see John reaching for his safety belt's buckle. "I gave you…an order…Mister!" he shouted breathlessly. "**FREE-EEZE!**"

The fireman **fro-oze**.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

At lo-ong last, the Captain reached the paramedic's position.

Stanley attached his safety clamp to the rung above John's and allowed his completely spent arms to drop limply to his sides. Hank just continued to hang there. He was breathing wa-ay too hard to speak.

Gage flashed him a grin and glanced up the ladder. "I'm going up…to touch the sun!" he declared, in a most carefree manner.

The Captain placed a hand on each of the paramedic's shoulders. "I have a better idea, pal!" he gasped. "Why don't we both go _down_…and touch the _ground_!"

'The _ground_?' John mentally repeated. Gee, he hadn't really given much thought to the grou-ound. He leaned back and looked down the ladder.

Brilliant streaks of color were running together and spinning off in all directions—like a giant kaleidoscope.

As the paramedic stared, the colors began to fade. "My head…hurts," he suddenly realized, and raised a hand to his throbbing temple. "Oh-oh…Man!…My head really…hurts!" he groaned.

One moment, everything was glittering. The next, everything was growing dimmer.

"Oh-oh," Gage grimaced and closed his eyes. "My head…my head…"

"Take it easy, pal," his Captain advised. "We'll get you to the hospital." Stanley unfastened the rope from the ladder, wrapped it around a rung a few times and then tied the loose end to John's security belt. "All set?" he wondered as he slipped his leather gloves on.

Gage's only acknowledgement was another groan.

Hank could see that his young friend was really 'out' of it…kind a' semiconscious. He lifted the fireman's limp form, released his security clamp and started lowering away.

Gradually, the Captain allowed the rope to slide through his gloved hands—so gradually, that it seemed to take _forever_ for the 'attached' paramedic to reach Kelly's position.

Finally, he felt a tug on the rope.

Stanley exhaled another long sigh of relief and fastened the rope to a rung, to rest the badly abused, and still burning, muscles in his aching arms.

Hank had really overdone it and he was certain that he'd be feelin' _this_ for at least a week—maybe even longer!

For the first time, he allowed himself to look around.

The view was absolutely incredible!

The tower was swaying in the wind.

'It's exhilarating!' Hank thought. 'Like bein' up in a glider with an open cockpit!'

He heard sirens wailing in the distance and glanced down.

An ambulance was en route to Rampart.

Damn! He'd just come awful close to losing two of his men—two very good men—two very good friends!

Stanley stared out across the ocean and hung there, hoping he'd never come that close again!

Hank exhaled a third sigh of extreme relief and let himself be overwhelmed by the serene scene that surrounded him.

'I'm going up…to touch the sun!' John had said.

"Ridiculous!" Station 51's Commander realized aloud. He squinted up the ladder.

The sun was directly overhead.

'It certainly does look like it's close enough to touch…' For an instant, Hank was tempted. "Nahhh!" he muttered beneath his breath.

The Captain tied the rope to his belt, released his security clamp, and then started _down_, instead.

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

"High On Morgan Towers"

**Epilogue**

Brackett had pronounced the _first_ tower victim DOA.

The doctor suspected either a massive MI or a CVA to be the cause of death. An autopsy would show for sure.

As for the tower's second and third victims?

Although Gage and DeSoto were no longer hallucinating, they were still hypersensitive to light and sound—and pain!

The two paramedics had been poked and prodded and tested and re-tested—before finally being admitted…for close medical observation.

**EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE**

Later that same evening, RN Dixie McCall paid her two favorite firemen a visit.

"Have you guys seen this?" the smiling woman wondered, as she came strolling into their shared hospital room waving a newspaper.

Gage winced in pain and then pondered of their pretty, loud, and entirely too cheerful, guest, "Do you hafta _shout_?"

"Seen what?" his curious roomy inquired.

"Tonight's paper. Listen to this…" their visitor began, speaking barely above a whisper, "Firemen Get _High_ On Morgan Towers."

Roy's already pained expression became even more pained.

John pulled a sheet up over his head. "I don't wanna hear it!" he told their grinning visitor, his voice sounding somewhat pitiful and slightly muffled.

Dixie's grin broadened. "I understand the Associated Press Wire Service has even picked it up! You two are _national_ celebrities!"

The undercover fireman's head popped clear. "Yah know…for a nurse…you kin be awfully cruel!"

Dixie's devious eyes sparkled and she was forced to chuckle…quietly, of course.

"Have _you_ read it?" DeSoto asked her.

"Only three or four times!"

"Is it very…embarrassing?" the senior paramedic further pondered.

"Would you like to hear it?"

"No-o!" John adamantly declared and ducked back undercover.

Roy gave it some thought and then said, "Yeah…sure…why not. It can't possibly make me feel any worse than I already feel."

"Wanna bet?" the body buried under his bedcovers blurted. "Do me a favor, will yah, and read it to yourself!"

"I can't. My eyes hurt too much," his roomy quickly determined. "Go ahead, Dix…"

Dixie read them the newspaper account.

When woman got to the last paragraph, her mood sobered—considerably. "Finally, the residents of Los Angeles County should be thankful that the two firefighter paramedics, John Gage and Roy DeSoto, are not going with Donald Devron on his 3rd and final _trip_ of the day…to the County Morgue. Mr. Devron slipped into a deep coma and never regained consciousness."

The room's occupants were quiet for some time.

DeSoto was the first to comment on the article. "I bet Captain Stanley and the guys get a unit citation out of this."

"Yeah…" his partner pouted, from beneath his bed sheets. "And all _we_ get out of it is a _headache_!"

Roy and Dixie glanced at each other…and grinned.

**The End**

Author's note: MI stands for myocardial infarction, or massive heart attack. CVA stands for cardio vascular accident, or a brain hemorrhage, or stroke.


End file.
